I waited while the shop assistant waited on two young men wearing rough clothes who wanted tablets [...] Related posts:

1. Class Distinctions in Modern India When we shifted to Juhu last September I went looking...

Today I was the first customer after the shop opened and didn’t have to wait. Note that this is an up market, [...] No related posts. Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.]]> When we shifted to Juhu last September I went looking for a barber in the locality. I found a good saloon opposite the C-DAC building. I have been using their services ever since.

Today I was the first customer after the shop opened and didn’t have to wait. Note that this is an up market, air conditioned UniSex Saloon. Anyway, I was half way through my haircut when I saw a boy enter. Actually I didn’t notice the boy at first. I noticed an old man in a embroidered Gandhi cap, crisp white kurta and pyjamas. He came in and took a seat on the bench meant for waiting patrons.

I looked at him curiously in the wall to wall mirror in front of me. Then I saw one of the barbers who work there telling him to step out and wait in the plastic chairs outside the saloon. The old man reddened and told the boy with him that he would wait in the car. The boy protested saying that “mummy’s” instructions were to stay with them. That is when I realized that there were 2 boys – one on the bench and another who had occupied the barber’s chair on my right. I had not noticed him at all!

The boy on the bench appealed to his elder brother to stop their driver because of what mummy had said but the elder boy didn’t bother.

The old man had walked out by this time. I could see that he was hurt and angry. A merchant establishment had judged him by his appearance and booted him out as undesirable.

Such are the class distinctions in modern India. In the large cities it is rarely about caste anymore though that still exists. Today it is more about economic status. And the enforcers are those that judge themselves to be superior, even if the superiority is only notional. Those like I who are caught in the middle might not be as fastidious though we too have our prejudices.

We have our faults but still “Sara Jahan Se Acha!”

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The application process itself was smooth and straightforward. They have a single web page [...] No related posts. Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.]]> Saturday evening I used the Indian Government’s online passport application application to apply for new passports for my kids and for renewal of Padmaja’s passport. We moved to Mumbai recently and I was afraid of the documentation that would be required.

The application process itself was smooth and straightforward. They have a single web page that needs to be filled out. The usability factor could have been better though in reality it manages to take a complex topic and present it well. After you finish the web pagwe you are taken to a submission summary page that gives you your submission number and allows you to select a date for the appointment at the local passport office. I was pleasantly surprised to note that I was given a date just 10 days from the date of submission.

There is extensive documentation on what is required. I put together a full set of documentation last night. Padmaja will print them up and the originals are at hand in a separate folder waiting for the big day.

I will need bank drafts though. Separate ones for each application. I intend to apply through the Tatkal route by paying the additional fees and hopefully everybody in te family will have passports by early March 2011. Then they can come with me on one of my way too frequent trips to Dubai.

I will post follow ups after we complete the whole process.

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I hope & pray that one day soon every child in this country [...] No related posts. Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.]]> I am going to Light a LG Virtual Diya for every state in the country! I request all readers to light at least 1 Diya. More if you can. And please invite your family & friends to light a few Diyas too.

I hope & pray that one day soon every child in this country will have a Diwali to look forward to and not just watch others celebrate.

Click here to light a Diya for a Child.

Update:

12.58 pm, Oct 8, 2009 – It took me some time but I have lit a Diya for every State in the Nation! And twice for my home state of Orissa

Update:

2.45 pm, Oct 8, 2009 – Damn! I didn’t read the fine print. 1 click per IP only! LG will not pay any money to CRY for multiple clicks from the same IP. I suppose they don’t want somebody like me to write a small script to go click the pages and garner points for CRY. Pity. For this excludes my family members from using the home computer to light a Diya. They would all use different email addresses but since I have a static IP they would all end up having the same IP address.

The same thing would happen to people at work because most often they would be behind a Firewall and connecting to the Internet via a Proxy Server. The LG servers will only see the Proxy Server’s IP. So only person’s click will register.

This doesn’t look so magnanimous of LG anymore.

Pity.

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Watch the video on YouTube

Go to LG India’s [...] No related posts. Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.]]> LG India has a excellent initiative where they will donate Re. 1/- to CRY for every virtual Diya that is lit on their web site. They have put up a very nice video on You Tube to advertise the initiative.

Watch the video on YouTube

Go to LG India’s web site to light a Diya for a child.

I have lit a Diya.

Have you?

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My wife, daughter & son were marooned on the Railway Station of Raichur for 30 hours till I rescued them late Saturday morning. This is the tale of that ordeal.

Day 1, Oct 2, 2009

6.30 am

Padmaja, my wife, Durgesh my 10 yr old daughter & Jyotiraditya, my 5 year old son, boarded [...] No related posts. Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.]]>

My wife, daughter & son were marooned on the Railway Station of Raichur for 30 hours till I rescued them late Saturday morning. This is the tale of that ordeal.

Day 1, Oct 2, 2009

6.30 am

Padmaja, my wife, Durgesh my 10 yr old daughter & Jyotiraditya, my 5 year old son, boarded the Rajdhani Express at Bangalore on Thursday, Oct 1. I was at Hyderabad and not watched any TV for 2 days. Got up early on Friday morning as the train is expected to arrive in Secunderabad by 7.35 am and it is a 45 min drive at the very least. Just as I was getting ready to check the Train Enquiry web site about the status of the train Padmaja called me. The train had stopped sometime in the night and people were just waking up.

The web site showed a delay of 1 hr 36 mins, with an arrival time of 9.10 am. I called 131 and received the same information. Called my wife back with this. Said I will start for the station at 8.15 am.

7.30 am

The web site now says 10.40 am arrival time. I call Padmaja and she gives me some bad news. The train is stuck between Raichur and Mahoobnagar as there is some flooding problem and will go back to Raichur. It might be possible that it is diverted from there and not come to Secunderabad at all! They have been served tea & biscuits.

I recheck the web site and call 131 again. Same info. The call is going to a call center in Bangalore and not to the local railway station. They seem to be reading from the same web site I am looking at.

9.30 am

By now the arrival time has changed to 11.35 pm, a delay of 4 hrs. I can no longer call Padmaja’s mobile. It either gives me a busy tone or the "Not Reachable" message in what I recognize as Kannada.

10.30 am

Still no luck with Padmaja’s mobile. I think the train must be on it’s way now and decide to keep trying periodically and continue monitoring the web site & 131.

Delay now 5 hrs with arrival at 12.35 pm.

11.30 am

Still no contact with Padmaja. The web site and 131 still show 12.35 pm.

I can no longer wait. Going by the information at hand I can only assume that the train will arrive in an hour’s time and leave for Secunderabad station.

12.30 pm

The Enquiry has a piece of paper stuck to it’s glass window with the words – "Rajdhani Express 2429, INDEFINITELY LATE". A glance at the display boards shows the same message scrolling above the arrival & departure messages.

I go to the Enquiry window anyway, pushing through the crowd of impatient, frustrated, anxious people all trying to approach that small break in the glass and ask their question. I finally managed to push my way in and was told – "Rajdhani position will be known only after 3.00 pm".

I tried Padmaja’s mobile again. Still no luck.

1.30 pm

I hung around the station till 1.30, periodically checking the Train Enquiry web site on my phone. No change till 1.32 pm when the delay became 9 hrs with an arrival time of 4.35 pm.

I decided to go back home. Padmaja called when I was at Begumpet (I use a blue tooth stereo headset). She told me that her phone was not able to get a connection and that she was calling from a co-passenger’s mobile. The train had finally left it’s earlier position and was headed back towards Raichur and would arrive soon. They have had nothing to eat since the tea & biscuits earlier that day and that Bablu, my 5 year old son was sick, vomiting. There was no water in the train’s compartment and the place was filthy.

2.30 pm

I am back at home and had a guilty lunch. The web site still shows 4.30 pm. I am not able to call either Padmaja’s mobile nor that of the co-passenger she used to call me. Maybe they have left Raichur and approaching Secunderabad.

3.30 pm

No change of train status. I am getting ready to go to the station when I get a call from Padmaja again, using another co-passenger’s phone. They are still at Raichur! And they will stay there at least for a day or two as the rail links to and from Raichur are all cut. They have been given food & water but nothing else has changed. Bablu is still sick.

I noticed the web site had now been refreshed to 36 hrs delayed! A frustrating call to both 131 & 139 brought no new information.

4.00 – 5.00 pm

I am frantic by now. I am not able to get any information from any source. TV is carrying images of flooding but the anchors are speaking in Telugu which I don’t understand. None of the newspaper web site has any information at all! They only started posting later that night about 11.30 pm.

I decide to go after them by car. I am confused and trying to get my thoughts in order. I pull out a few clothes and put them on the bed. Then I remember that one of my car’s headlight has blown a filament and I have only one working light. I rush out to the local garage to get this rectified. In the meantime I called my father and asked him for Shivaji Uncle’s phone number. Shivaji is an old friend of my father and a Hyderabad based entrepreneur. My father called back in a few minutes and didn’t ask any questions. Maybe he heard something in my voice. I called Shivaji Uncle and told him that “hum musibath mein hai” (I am in trouble). I told him that I am planning to go after my family by car and asked his advice, particularly of local conditions. He told me “Go! What are you waiting for?” And then “Let me call a few people. I will call you back”. I later learned that he was traveling at the time in the interior of my own home state of Orissa.

Then I called a colleague of Padmaja and a neighbor, Nagmaleswar Rao. Nag is a very resourceful person. I explained the situation and asked him to find me a driver to accompany me. He called me back later with the suggestion that instead of taking my car, a Maruti Baleno, which has a very low ground clearance, I should book a SUV. I agreed and Nag did all the negotiation for me. The Toyota Innova would be at my door step by 5.30 pm. He gave me the travel agent’s (Royal Travels) phone numbers.

5.00 – 6.00 pm

I got home and finished my packing. My in-laws are to arrive by the 8.30 pm flight. They would have taken the Garib Rath from Bangalore that night but Rohan, my brother-in-law bought them flight tickets instead at the very last minute after hearing of the predicament of Padmaja and the kids. I leave instructions with the maid.

Then I called my parents in Bhubaneswar. They have been following the developments closely and my mother advised me to definitely take 1. food, 2. a torch & 3. an umbrella. I had already packed the first two but had not thought of the umbrella

Moin, my driver, arrived at about 5.45 pm. I was ready to leave. I had already prayed at the home shrine. I had taken the small plastic plaque of Sree Sree Mallikarjuna that Padmaja worshiped. He is the lord of the Srisailam Hills and I figured he would protect my family and show me where to go to get to them.

6.00 – 7.30 pm

Moin & I leave immediately. I direct him to the nearest ICICI ATM where I withdraw 10K, making sure to get enough 100 rupee notes by breaking the transactions into multiple ones. The remainder were in 1000 Rupee notes and I didn’t like that much but there was nothing to be done about it.

We reached NH7 via the the partially completed Inner Ring Road and made for Jadcherla. We had no idea of ground conditions and as per Moin the best way to find out more was at the APSRTC Bus Stand at Jadcherla.

Moin was right. I found the “Controller” at the bus stand and he was, well, shall we say, strange. When I entered his office he had a number of other people with him and they were all wearing the trademark “all white” clothes of the Congress Party worker. They all jumped up when I walked in and addressed me as ‘Sir’. I was surprised and took a second or two to get my bearings. Then I plunged into my questions about the conditions beyond Mahoobnagar and the route to Raichur. A collective sigh left the group and their attitude towards me became brusque. I never did understand what happened there

I didn’t get anything useful from that lot but the drivers and conductors outside were more forthcoming. We spent about 20 minutes there. In the meantime, Phani, Shivaji Uncle’s son, called me. He told me that he was in touch with a friend of his in Raichur, Jamil, and that Jamil was on his way to the railway station and would help Padmaja get medicines etc.

We were told that the Beechpalli bridge on the Kurnool highway was underwater and that there was a break in the highway on one side. This was a blow as this route was our first preference being part of the NH7. Kurnool of course was flooded by then but we were not planning to go anywhere near there.

The second option was Mahbubnagar –> Merikal –> Makthal –> Gadwal –> Raichur. I had never heard of these places! After much back and forth between the various listeners we came to the conclusion that in effect nobody knew anything! Finally a helpful shopkeeper at the bus stand told us that at least till Makthal the road was motorable. A bus had come in a little while ago. That of course meant that it had left Makthal almost 3 hours ago and the ground situation could have changed by now. But I had no option.

I directed Moin to drive to Mahbubnagar.

7.30 pm – 8.30 pm

We arrive at Mahbubnagar about 8.00 pm and it takes us about 20 minutes to locate the APSRTC bus stand.

Never before had I realized the role these busses play in keeping life going in the interiors, far from the mega cities of India. We spent a good hour at the bus stand, trying to find somebody who could tell us of conditions at Makthal and the bridges on the Krishna and it’s tributaries. A middle aged woman at the bus stand claimed to have come from Gadwal that morning and was trying to go back there. She wasn’t of much help other than to tell us that as of this morning the roads to Gadwal and hence to Raichur were open (all the river bridges in threat were before Gadwal). It has been raining heavily all day and the bridges could be impassable by now.

The Controller told us that no Karnataka bus had come to Mahbubnagar all day. An ominous sign. He also said that the Andhra Pradesh buses to Gadwal & Raichur had left in the afternoon but had not returned yet. And they should have. So the busses could either be stuck at Raichur itself or anywhere in between, including Makthal.

Finally we decided to carry on, at least as far as Makthal.

8.30 – 11.00 pm

The drive to Merikal was bad. There was very little traffic on the road after Devarkadra.

We didn’t know it but there is a small river after Devarkadra. The bridge was under 6 inches of water but in the darkness and heavy, nearly horizontal, rain, Moin never noticed. I did because I was peering at the bridge to see what I could make out of it’s conditions. We splashed across without mishap though I was worried that our route back to Mahbubnagar was in danger of being submerged soon. I didn’t say anything about the bridge to Moin.

By now the rain was bad. Really really bad. It was horizontal and coming so hard that the Innova’s wind screen developed a crack on the passenger side. Visibility was down to the length of the headlight’s reach. Occasional flashes of lightening would show us a stretch of road before us or a sudden curve ahead. We were reduced to a pair of lights, a stretch of road ahead and the drumming rain on the car that was almost loud enough the drown out the Innova’s diesel engine. It was terrifying. We had a permanent bow wave of water from the layer on the road. It was more like being in a boat than driving down a village road.

Merikal was a dark ghost town. Not a soul on the streets and all doors and windows shut tight against that monster rain.

And then we were on our way to Makthal. The rain continued.

Finally we were passing the embankment of a small lake outside Makthal. Moin had worried about this lake overflowing and the road beside it being swamped. Luckily all was well. The embankment was still holding. The drive down the road with the embankment on the right and the 20 feet visibility in that downpour was one of my most terrifying drives. It lasted only for a few minutes as we crossed the kilometer long embankment.

I had been praying all the way. Something I don’t do regularly. I prayed to Raghunath our families presiding Deity, to Jagathnath the lord of the universe, to Ganesh the remover of obstacles and to Siva, my wife’s favorite.

My parents were worried and kept calling me with advice, warnings and requests for updates.

We reached Makthal at about 10.30 pm. The bus stand was dark, with a few parked buses and lots of people trying to sleep on the benches and the floors. The Innova’s headlights lit up the place as we drove in. There were only two people willing to speak with us. They told us that the road ahead was cut. A small river, a tributary of the mighty Krishna had overwhelmed the little bridge over it. The flood water has reached 1/2 a kilometer on either side of the river.

11.00 pm to 5.00 am, Day 2

We decided to first get something to eat and then find a place to stay the night. Right across the bus stand was a lodge that promised food and a bed. Food was readily available, cold rice, sambar, a frightful soya nuggets curry and a small bowl of watery curds. I had the waiter remove half the huge mound of rice he served me in a greasy plate on a unwashed table. The proprietor seemed drunk and the by standers helpful with their advice and their commiserations with my troubles. The meal cost me 60 Rupees for two plates of rice and curry. 

We were told in uncertain terms that there was no bed to be had in all of Makthal. All were taken by those stranded on the way to Gadwal & further afield.

The town lost all power just as we were going down from the first floor hotel where we had dinner. We decided to sleep in the car.

A bad night. Moin fell asleep almost immediately. I lay on the reclined passenger seat but sleep would not come. I was worried to death about Padmaja and the kids, particularly Bablu my 5 year old son. Mamli, my 10 year daughter, is made of sterner stuff and while fastidious about dirt could adjust after the initial shock had filtered in.

I hardly slept that night. The car was stifling, hot and humid. It continued to rain hard till about 1.00 pm and I could not open the windows even a small crack. After the rain slowed to a drizzle I opened the front and rear windows on my side a crack and gratefully took in big gasps of fresh air. Two adults in a closed car! I left the windows open a small crack and soon realized that the local mosquito population had taken it as a personal invitation.

Anyway, I made it through that night. Somehow. And most surprisingly I did not notice my back pain. In fact I didn’t notice it till we made it back to Hyderabad late on Oct 3.

I heard and saw the lights of various large trucks making their way through Makthal that night. They were all headed towards Gadwal and that gave me fresh hope that the road might be open by morning.

Day 2

5.00 am – 6.00 am

I must have fallen asleep sometime late that night. An old Maruti Van’s coughing engine brought me out of a troubled sleep. That and raised voices speaking of Gadwal. That city was beginning to haunt me. It had started to symbolize all that I had ever read about unattainable dreams that people in stories chase. I got out of the car and walked towards the group of people surrounding the card. The interior was lit and I could see half a dozen people cramped into that small vehicle. They told me in Hindi that they were going to Gadwal and tried to explain the route they were taking. It was so frustrating! They mentioned places I had never heard of and could not pronounce, let alone remember. Finally they took off and I was left standing there with a couple of others.

I went back to the car and woke Moin. Told him about the car and asked him to inquire from the other by standers if they knew the route the car was taking. Moin reluctantly did as ordered and came back to me full of commiseration. The car was on it’s way to the river bridge 12 kilometers from Makthal. The one we were told about last night. They planned to wait there till the water receded and would cross then.

I was crestfallen. I was so sure that these guys knew of another route across to Gadwal! Now I was still stuck in Makthal, desperately looking for a way to cross a river in spate.

It was still dark. We had tea at the stall of an enterprising young man who had set up shop, a small trolley lit by a sputtering oil lamp. The tea was over sweetened but hot.

Then I heard an old Ambasador’s engine. The old car rattled to a stop at the lodge opposite the bus stand and a man got out. He opened the boot and started fumbling inside, drawing out a bundle of newspapers. This, I realized, is how the villages and small towns in the interior get their daily newspaper.

Unfortunately for me, all the papers were in Telugu. I could only stare at the pictures of flood hit Kurnool and submerged villages.

6.00 am to 7.00 am – The River in Spate

By 6.00 am it was light and people were about. I suggested to Moin that we should get some breakfast before figuring out what to do next. Moin was exasperated. He told me that he would take me to the river to see for myself that “ALL” routes were closed. I shrugged and said “lets get something to eat first”. We got in the car and  went looking for a place to eat. A Uddipi Hotel was open but Moin continued saying let’s see the river first. I let him go on with a sick feeling in my pit of my stomach.

We were met by a long line of trucks parked by the left side of the road. It looked like a couple of hundred trucks were parked there. We parked towards the end of that line and walked to the river and the bridge across it. The bridge that was my only and last hope of getting to Raichur and my stranded family.

The river was a torrent of dirty brown water over the little bridge that spanned it. I could make out the outline of the submerged bridge from the turbulence of the fast flowing river water. The river had also flooded the road on either side for a good 500 meters. We could see people on the far side.

That was the end.

The end of my hope of breaking through to Raichur that day. The only way across was closed to me. I was defeated by a small river. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

7.00 am to 9.00 am, Makthal

We started back to Makthal. I was slumped in my seat. Despondent. I had not been able to get through on my mobile phone since I woke up and what would I have told Padmaja? And the kids? Daddy is not going to come to you today? You will have to spend another day and perhaps a couple stuck in a railway compartment on a god fore shaken station in North Karnataka?

I didn’t know what to do. My brain stopped working for a few minutes. Moin kept quite.

By the time we reached Makthal I had made up my mind. I tried Padmaja’s phone again and luckily got through. I told her the bad news and I could almost see her slump. The kids were still asleep & I would not have to face them, figuratively speaking, for another hour or so. I told Padmaja that I was going back to Hyderabad and would try again later. There was no point in waiting at Makthal as the small river was in spate and not likely to go down anytime soon. Maybe a day or two. That’s what the locals claimed and I had seen the bridge for myself.

We reached Makthal about 7.30 am & parked outside the Uddipi hotel. Just as I was un-strapping myself from the seat belt a man in a stained white shirt approached Moin and started asking questions in Telugu. I heard Raichur and froze. Moin spoke for a few minutes explaining our situation and about my family. The man nodded and I then noticed another knot of people outside. I got out of the car and approached the gent in the white shirt. He was busy talking on the phone and seemed to have a certain air of confidence. The people around him muttered “Reporter” and felt a sudden surge of hope. Maybe this guy knew something!

I turned to the people surrounding him and asked about him in Hindi. They told me that this guy was a reporter with Deccan Chronicle and that he knew of a way to reach Raichur. Also that he was trying to reach the DC’s (District Collector) office to get confirmation. And that the Karnataka Chief Minister was on his way but stuck outside Raichur because of a broken bridge. I tried to corner the reporter but he would not let me buy him a coffee. He insisted on staying outside making his calls. Moin & I decided to get a bite to eat and went into the Uddipi Hotel. We breakfasted on Puri & sabji before walking back to the reporter and his followers outside.

Luckily for me the reporter, Venkatsing wasn’t able to get through to the DC’s office. I offered to try from my phone and by God’s grace got through. I handed it to him after turning off my head set. He spoke for a while and then shook his head. But now he spoke to me instead of just ignoring me. I learned from him that the proposed route was Marikal –> Narayanpet –> Yadgir –> Raichur. The main bridge on the Krishna between Yadgir and Raichur was open to traffic but that I would not be able to Yadgir itself as a small river has broken it’s banks and swept away the bridge across it. Damn!

I was back to square one.

We still hung around because the reporter was again making phone calls. We didn’t get anything more out of him that day. I took his number & name and fed them into my phone’s contact list. Then Moin & I heard another knot of men talking about Gadwal. We quickly went over and started asking questions. One man said that perhaps, perhaps mind, there was a way to get to Gadwal from Marikal after all. He did not have enough information but seemed to think that a route was open.

I was grabbing at straws by now. I had already phoned by parents in Bhubaneswar & my in-laws in Hyderabad, telling them that I had failed and was heading back home. I decided to let them think that and hopped into the car with Moin. By now I wasn’t sure if the route back to Mahbubnagar via Devarkadra was still open. I mentioned the flooded river bridge before Devarkadra to Moin and he paled.

We reached Marikal just about 9.00 am and headed for the APSTRC Bus Stand.

9.00 am, Marikal Bus Stand

The Controller wasn’t at his office which was standing open. The food stall next to his office in the Bus Stand was open and two people were standing there talking quietly. Moin & I approached them. Moin addressed them in Telugu and they nodded their heads. There was a way. Maybe. They weren’t sure.

Take the road to Amatkur from Marikal. before you reach Amatkur you will find a turning to the Priyadarshini Jurala Project (Dam) over the Krishna river. It is a large dam with about 70 gates. They had heard that the State Govt. was allowing civilian traffic over the Dam. They weren’t sure as no buses had yet come through from Gadwal but they had heard some rumors about the Dam being open to traffic. Normally these Dams come under the CISF and are closed to civilian traffic. They also told us that the bridge over the Krishna leading to Gadwal was still 20 feet underwater.

The Dam was about 60 kilometers away. Conditions in the surrounding areas were unknown. We would be approaching the Krishna directly and the river was it spate. I had a growing sense of excitement but refused to give in to a perhaps false sense of hope. I turned to Moin and said “lets go”. He started to protest but then subsided.

We left Marikal at about 9.10 am and took the narrow road that led to Amatkur.

9.30 am to 10.30 am – Gadwal!

The road was bad. Really, really bad. One stretch was a mud track and we were in constant danger of being bogged down but the Innova’s big diesel saw us through. I realized that I would have been able to get through in my own car. Too low slung to navigate the mud ruts in the dirt road and not enough power to pull through if it got stuck.

At one point we were not sure of the turn to take. There were no signs and nobody in sight.

Fortunately for us a small girl was standing at the crossing grazing a cow. We stopped and asked her “Amatkur?” She smiled at us and pointed down one track. Moin sucked in his breath and said “Insha Allah! He placed her there! I am sure of it! Insha Allah!”. We turned and drove on in silence.

We finally reached the road to the Dam and took it. By this time we were seeing traffic on the road coming in the opposite direction. This was an encouraging sign and we stopped most of the cars & SUVs and asked for information. They confirmed that the Dam was open to traffic.

We sped on.

Moin seemed to have taken heart at this sudden turn of events and seemed exhilarated. I dared not hope. Again. Not till I am across the Dam and in Gadwal!

The approach to the Dam crosses a couple of small villages and the people there were very excited. They shouted at us in Telugu – “Go on! The Dam is open!”.

Sure enough the Dam was open. Excited villagers were all over the Dam gazing in wonder at a full reservoir and a Dam with all it’s gates open. The Krishna downstream of the Dam was a sight I have never seen before.

The reservoir of the Priyadarshini Jurala Project (Dam)

I put away my phone. I wasn’t going to be hauled up by a bunch of CISF Jawans for photographing a Dam. Moin was excited by now and wanted me to take pictures of the swirling waters on both sides of the Dam but I firmly put it away. But then I took it out again when I realized that there were no uniforms in sight.

The reservoir of the Priyadarshini Jurala Project (Dam)

The road over the Priyadarshini Jurala Project (Dam)

The Open Gates of the Dam and the river downstream

We sped through and were soon on the other side. We were through! We had crossed the Krishna! I could hope again.

But we were still about 60 kilometers from Raichur, having taken a wide detour to go over the Dam. And Moin cautioned that there would be many small streams and rivers to cross yet. And with all the Dam gates open a huge amount of water was being released into the Krishna river & other smaller streams and could easily cut us off again.

The rest of the journey was a bone rattling but exhilarating drive through many small villages. There were a number of tricky spots where small streams had submerged their bridges and a place where a culvert had partially collapsed. But there was traffic on the road and that proved to us that we too could make it through. And we did!

We bypassed Gadwal which lay to the south and struck out north across village roads, approaching Raichur from that direction. During this time I called Padmaja and told her the good news. Told her that I was about an hour away.

Soon after that call I received a call from an unknown number. It turned out to be another frantic father, Mr. Kumar from Lucknow, whose 16 year old daughter and her cousin were in the same compartment as my family. Mr. Kumar’s family was visiting Hyderabad for a marriage and the two girls who study engineering in Bangalore were on their way to attend the same marriage. He begged me to take them with me when I left. I promised to do what I could.

We reached Raichur about 11.00 am on Saturday, Oct 3, 2009.

Just as we were approaching the railway station I received a SMS from my father-in-law

I was laughing now! Hyderabad? I am in Raichur! I made it through!

I ran into the station, leaving Moin to park the Innova. Coach B3 was at the end of the platform and I ran down the platform through the chaos, dodging people who stared at me as at a mad man. I didn’t care! I had made it through!

My children saw me get into the compartment and ran into my arms with squeals of joy. I hugged them hard before turning to my wife. All this had happened too fast for the other passengers. I started hearing whispers of “her husband”, “from Hyderabad” etc.

We left about 30 minutes later. In addition to Mr. Kumar’s children, we took another young married lady with us. I spoke to her husband Sumit who was in Bangalore and assured him that there was space in the car for his wife. We were followed by cries of “Where are you going?”, “How did he come from Hyderabad? Aren’t the roads closed?”. A group of young men from the same compartment stopped me and asked if they could follow us in a hired taxi. Earlier no taxi would venture out but after we appeared they were willing to go.

When I reached the parking lot I found Moin surrounded by an excited band of drivers and other people. He had a big grin across his face and was telling of our adventures. How we drove across the Dam etc etc…

Jus then a man ran up to me and introduced himself as the local Reporter from Eenadu, the leading Telugu language newspaper in AP. He wanted to know how I had come through, which way? Was it safe?

Then he dropped the bombshell on me. I was the first person to get through from Hyderabad! Even the state officials, the police etc were yet to make an appearance.

Just then my daughter informed me – “Daddy, I think you have become a hero!”

12.00 noon to 5.00 pm

We squeezed into the Innova and headed back. I was still worried about the bridge after Marikal. And the other people from the train who had hired a taxi at Raichur called me to say that they had heard the Dam was closed, and then that the bridge was submerged. I told them to follow and kept going.

We crossed the Dam and found to our surprise that it was swamped by villagers. Everybody was having a picnic! This was perhaps the first time they had full access to the Dam and they were streaming in from all over to see Nature in it’s fury.

We reached Marikal about 4.00 pm. By now the Innova was running low on fuel but Moin shrugged it off saying that we would get diesel in Devarkadra. Then we came up to the bridge and to our dismay all traffic was stopped. Buses, trucks, cars and SUVs lined the road side. Moin parked the Innova and he & I went to investigate.

The bridge was under water. There was no way through.

Damn! Now we were stuck again.

Moin & I had not eaten since those Puris early that morning. I called him into a road side tea stall and ordered two cups. A gent standing next to us heard us speaking of Mahbubnagar and informed us that we should have been here an hour ago. It seems the bridge was submerged because the Almatti Dam in North Karnataka had opened one of the sluice gates that feeds the small river we were trying to cross. If only we had arrived a hour ago!

We decided to go back to Marikal and see if we could find somewhere to stay for the night. Moin stopped the Innova at a crossing about half a kilometer from the swollen river. We got down to speak with the drivers of the other parked vehicles. Just then two men on a motorbike rode up from another direction and said that we could still make it to Mahbubnagar if we took the C C Kunta & Allipur route, an U-shaped detour of some 50 kilometers. The flood water had still not reached the two bridges on the way and that we would come out at Devarkadra, on the other side of the bridge. They claimed that the first bridge, the one before C C Kunta was under water but still motorable. The second bridge should be free of water for some more time. But we had to hurry.

Moin & I looked at each other and ran back to the Innova. We jumped in and drove off. A couple of other cars followed us. We reached the first bridge to find it under water but with villagers on the bridge in the midst of the flowing water. Moin hesitated but I urged him on, pointing out that if people could walk in that current a heavy vehicle like the Innova, fully loaded, would not be swept away. He gritted his teeth, changed down to first gear and drove across. I kept my finger crossed. The Innova slipped a couple of times but we made it through.

After that it was a race against time to the second bridge! We tore across the village roads, shouting at goat & cow herders to get out of the way! Luckily for us the second bridge was still free of water. The torrent had not yet submerged the bridge.

The other taxi from Raichur had now reached Marikal and they called me. I told them about the C C Kunta route and told them to hurry.

By now we had another problem. The Innova was running out of gas. The dashboard had a blinking red light and Moin guessed we had enough for another 20 odd kilometers. We made it into Devarkadra on diesel fumes and filled up at the petrol pump there.

5.00 pm to 8.30 pm – The Way Home

The rest of the journey was uneventful. We crossed Mahbubnagar and Jadcherla to hit NH 7 again. It was almost 24 hrs since I had come this way looking for a way over the Krishna to my family. We had made it.

We arrived home about 8.30 pm. The three girls with us had called ahead and their relatives came to to pick them up from our home in Srinagar Colony. A tearful Mr. Kumar came to thank me for brining his daughters home. What could I say? I was happy my family was home.

My Thanks

My thanks to all the people who helped me get my family to safety, away from the worst floods to hit the area in 50 years. To Moin, my intrepid driver, for his skill at the wheel, his tenacity and his prayers to his God on our behalf. To Jamil for his help with medicines and food at Raichur. To Shivaji & his son Phani for all their help. To Nagmaleswar Rao for his help with the Innova. To Padmaja’s co-passengers for all their help.

To all the people we met who gave us directions and helpful advice. To the villagers we met along the way. To the little girl on the way to Amatkur, who Moin is certain was sent by Allah to guide us.

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